


Marvel Drabble Collection

by Biromantic_Nerd



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: AU's in some chapters, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gender Themes, LGBTQIA+ themes, No Sex, No Smut, Queer Themes, Spoilers and/or speculation in some chapters, Warnings for every chapter in the chapter notes, tone of the fics vary per chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-03-14 13:42:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13591260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biromantic_Nerd/pseuds/Biromantic_Nerd
Summary: The ideas that are still yet to be finished and for now shall remain as one shots/drabblesThe first chapter is just a more detailed index to help navigate the stories easierChapter warnings and ratings are included in every chapter





	1. Index & Summaries

• Chapter 1 - Index & Summaries

 

Chapters 2-4: Mini Series: Infinity War, MCU-based, Semi-Related Drabbles

 

• Chapter 2 - Poise And Rationality: Infinity War, MCU-based Drabble 1: Rated T 

 

Tony shows some tact. Vision does not.

 

• Chapter 3 - This Planet Ain't Big Enough For The Two Of Us: Infinity War, MCU-based Drabble 2: Rated T 

 

Tony Stark discovers two things: that Thor somehow developed the ability to curse - and that he really doesn't get along with Thor's new friends. _Especially_ that raccoon.

 

• Chapter 4 - We Can Still Choose Where We Go: Infinity War, MCU-based Drabble 3: Rated T

 

T'Challa and Bucky are the two wallflower friends at a party, uniting in their shared judging of everyone else. 

 

• Chapter 5 - Skeletons Aren't The Only Thing Matt Has Shoved In The Closet: Daredevil College Drabble: Rated T 

 

Foggy comes out of the closet for an entire fifteen minutes before Matt ruins it.

 

• Chapter 6 - Foggy's Deli: AU Foggy owns a deli, Matt's...still Matt Drabble: Rated T 

 

Yesterday, Matt had accidentally stayed until midnight at a deli, too busy focusing on a case to notice anything else until the deli owner suggested that he should eat. Today, Matt can't seem to focus on anything _but_ the deli shop owner.

 

• Chapter 7 - I'm Mr. Brightside: Ace!Mary Jane: **Rated M** ; Read the chapter warnings

 

Mary Jane has always had sex with every single one of her boyfriends. Then there's Flash, and that changes everything. 

 

• Chapter 8 - Peter & Pals: Movie Day: Peter Parker & Pals Drabble 1: Rated T

 

Peter invites all of their friends to hang out for a movie day. Mary Jane, Gwen, and Johnny show up. Harry doesn't. It's still a nice day, even if they are sad about that.

 

• Chapter 9 - Keep On Trying With My Friends: The Defenders AU Canon Divergence: Rated T

 

Elektra deserved better. (And still does) The Defenders try to help but also try to stop the Hand at the same time. Not much actually gets accomplished.

• Chapter 10 - Not Much Has Changed But They Live Underwater: Pre-relationship Spideytorch; Rated G

It's a bit excessive to have a toilet with a fish tank built into it, but that's Johnny Storm for you.


	2. Poise And Rationality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MCU-based Infinity War, drabble 1: Rated T
> 
> Tony shows some tact. Vision does not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible spoilers: 
> 
> • Thor 3
> 
> • Infinity War Speculation 
> 
>  
> 
> Possible warnings:
> 
> • ableism and internalized ableism

________________________________

 

Vision spoke, each word spaced with an odd rhythmic pause in between. "You have lost an eye." 

 

"Damn." Natasha sighed, just as Clint threw his fist in the air victoriously. 

 

"I knew it." Clint crowed. "Pay up." 

 

"Is now really the time?" She muttered but still pulled out her phone and began tapping away at it to do so electronically. 

 

"Okay, what?" Tony asked. "Maybe - I dunno, just an idea - you could decipher your little pal code for everyone else?" 

 

Natasha shook her head. "It was just a bet." 

 

"Yeah." Clint laughed. "And you _lost._ Ha, _I told you_ that Vision was a total asshole." Clint paused. He turned to look at Vision. "Uh...no offense." He said, sounding completely insincere and utterly apathetic about it. 

 

"You bet that Vision would, what, comment on - " Bruce cut himself off awkwardly, shooting Thor an apologetic look. "So then who did Natasha bet on?" 

 

Natasha's eyes flickered over pointedly. 

 

" _Me?_ " Tony gasped. 

 

She shrugged. "You've never shown a need for subtly before."

 

Tony scoffed. "I'll have you know that I know better to comment on someone's physical disability. Especially a newly acquired and visible physical disability."

 

"Since when?" Nick Fury asked, eyebrow raised high and challengingly on his face. 

 

Tony flushed. "Okay, okay, maybe in the past, I might not have - "

 

"Mmm hmm." Nick Fury hummed but let it drop. 

 

" - but obviously I've since then picked a few things up." 

 

Rhodey placed a warm hand on Tony's shoulder, and Tony restrained himself, bit back on the possibility of saying anything too intimate. 

 

Neither said anything of the awkward, stilted conversations in the beginning of 'what is invasive for me to ask versus what is helpful for me to ask in order for me to better understand your needs?' Neither of them brought up the way they had both danced around the word - _disabled_ \- until Rhodey was comfortable with saying it.

 

Neither spoke of the way they still were learning how to better communicate between disabled and abled person. Of the way they were trying to balance offering support and coping techniques but not taking away Rhodey's independence. Of the way they were trying to develop technological aid without taking away Rhodey's anatomy. Of the way that some days Rhodey could crack joke about his new legs but some days he _hated_ himself so much that he couldn't bear it. 

 

No, Tony knew what it was like up close and personal for someone to become disabled, to lose limbs, to have to cope with that loss. And if today wasn't a good coping day for Thor, then _he_ was not going to be the asshole that brought attention to it. 

 

Tony eyed Rhodey, wondered if this conversation was tough to manage. No one in the group had asked what had happened to Rhodey - because they all had known. Was it difficult to have to hear those thoughts being unvoiced? To know that if they hadn't been at that battle, they would have acted towards _Rhodey_ this way? 

 

 _Then again, Thor hadn't been there and he hadn't brought it up,_ Tony mused. _Maybe Clint was right: Vision was just a total asshole._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously am dreading the whole "Thor, what happened to your face?" that might happen in Infinity War. And so this drabble was to combat that anxiety by pointing out that - hey - Tony Stark is not going to stand for ableism anymore. 
> 
> (Because Rhodey shouldn't _have_ to always be the one to fight those battles. In fact, Tony realizes that he should be the one that _is most protected_ from them. Because it's the worst being disabled and having to waste your energy to defend your existence yourself to someone all by yourself.)


	3. This Planet Ain't Big Enough For The Two Of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Infinity War, MCU-based Drabble 2: Rated T
> 
> Tony Stark discovers two things: that Thor somehow developed the ability to curse - and that he really doesn't get along with Thor's new friends. _Especially_ that raccoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible Spoilers: 
> 
> • Thor 3 
> 
> • Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2

_______________________________

 

"What the hell ?" Thor asked, face pinched in annoyance. 

 

"Well _somebody,_ " Tony's eyebrows raised. "Has picked up some new vocabulary. Who have _you_ been hanging out with - these chumps?"

 

"Hey!" Peter Quill protested. "He was like that when we found him!"

 

Thor frowned. "I believe it was _we_ who found _you._ " He pointed out, looking as regal as ever, his arms folding in an elegant motion across his chest magnanimously. 

 

"I am Groot." Groot whispered behind one hand-like branch, a touch too loudly, to Rocket. 

 

"Is he going to keep doing that?" Tony frowned. 

 

" _Is_ he a 'he'?" Peter Parker asked, and shuffled awkwardly when they all turned to look at him. "What? I'm just asking here! I mean - who knows what sort of gender roles aliens do or do not subscribe to out there in...space." 

 

"I am Groot." Groot answered, nodding and smiling. 

 

"Huh." Rocket said stopped scratching at one elbow. "You never told me that. Since _when_?"

 

"I am Groot!" 

 

"Bull _shit_ that you told me!" Rocket replied, hands upon his hips. "I specifically asked, and you specifically said!" 

 

Groot paused. "I am Groot?" 

 

"Yeah. That's what I thought." Rocket sniffed, satisfied. 

 

"Um, hello, hi." Tony said, slightly annoyed. "For those of us who _don't_ speak alien tree, what did any of that mean?"

 

Rocket crossed his arms. "What? Ya want me to bottle feed ya too?"

 

"What?" Tony spluttered out. "There's a significant language barrier - "

 

"Wah wah wah." Rocket mocked, pretending to cry. 

 

" - and you're not -"

 

"Tony," Steve warned. 

 

"Oh _boo_ hoo, you oversized - " Rocket continued, sneering. 

 

" - not helping -"

 

" - ugly piece of - "

 

"Would you cut that out?" Tony snapped. 

 

"GUYS!" Peter Quill shouted. "Come on, man!"

 

"We're supposed to be _working together._ " Gamora pointed out sternly. "Not going for each others' throats every fifteen minutes." 

 

"It certainly does liven the place up, though," Loki mused wistfully.

 

Gamora swerved to glare at him. He blinked innocently. "Oh, did I say that out loud?" He shrugged slightly, the blasé action utterly and obviously apathetic. "Whoops."

 

Nebula snorted disdainfully. 

 

"They're all going to die." She declared easily, staring at her sister as if daring her to argue with that statement. 

 

Peter Quill took her up on that dare instead. "Hey, they're doing their best." He protested. "You have to remember that they're Terrans." 

 

"Excuse you?" Loki asked primly but looking ghastly offended. 

 

"Terran. Out in space, it means 'from Earth'." He clarified. 

 

"I _know_ what it _means_." Loki protested coldly. 

 

"What my..." Thor paused minutely and continued on with barely an indication that he still occasionally and habitually referenced to Loki as his brother. "What Loki was trying to say, is that you are mistaken in your assumption that he is unaware of Terrans." 

 

Loki sniffed delicately. "I almost ruled Terra, you know." 

 

Thor elbowed Loki in the ribs indiscreetly. 

 

".....Ouch." He muttered petulantly. 

 

"Hey, wait a minute, go back a minute," Sam Wilson pointed a finger at Peter Quill. "What do you mean by that when you said we're Terrans like it explains something?"

 

"Oh." Peter Quill sent grimacing looks to his crew as he stalled. "It's just - Something of a - a reputation. Terrans are known for, you know?"

 

"No. We don't." Steve Rogers said dryly. "So why don't you fill us in?" 

 

"Oh boy, ha ha ha." Peter Quill tugged at the collar of his shirt. "Is it hot in here, or is it just me?"

 

"It is just me." Drax replied immediately. 

 

Mantis giggled. 

 

"Thank you, Drax." Peter Quill muttered, frowning. 

 

"You're very welcome, Friend Quill." Drax answered. 

 

"You know, it's sounding to me like it's something bad." Tony Stark mused. "But that can't be right because humans are obviously awesome." 

 

What seemed to be several snorts of amusement sounded through the room. 

 

"Wow." Tony lifted an eyebrow. "Rude." 

 

"You wanna know rude?" Rocket finally burst out. "Now, _Terrans,_ they are rude."

 

"Oh," Tony sneered. "You mean like talking raccoons?"

 

"I'm not a raccoon!" Rocket yelled, lunging to attack. 

 

"Whoa!" Peter Parker cried out in alarm. 

 

Tony activated his wristband repulsers and they charged up to fire. 

 

Midair, inches away from Tony's face, Thor's large hand caught Rocket in an unyielding, and yet careful, grip. 

 

"That's enough." Thor said softly, as if a mere suggestion. 

 

Instantly, Rocket hung limply from his grasp, and Tony lowered the gauntlet. 

 

"Now," Thor spoke evenly, but everyone heard him. "Let us discuss this calmly and rationally. We are all amongst friends here." He gestured to the table that had long been abandoned by most everyone in the room due to all of the ongoing tension and commotion. "Please. Let us be seated."

 

Everyone made their way quietly back to the table and sat.


	4. We Can Still Choose Where We Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MCU-based Inifity War Drabble 3: Rated T
> 
> T'Challa and Bucky are the two wallflower friends at a party, uniting in their shared judging of everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • No Black Panther spoilers or speculation. This was written before the movie came out and is just based on a self indulgent idea that T'Challa and Bucky become friends somehow.
> 
> • minor Infinity War speculation

________________________________

 

"They are all like children," T'Challa mused quietly. "But worse. Much, much worse." 

 

"Mm." Bucky Barnes agreed softly. 

 

"How do they expect us to fight and win against Thanos if we are this divided amongst ourselves?" 

 

Bucky didn't say anything. 

 

"Sometimes," T'Challa mused. "I suppose unity must be forged by the trials undergone together. Trust that is earned is far more lasting, rather than a - admittedly gratifying - instant regard for another that dissolves upon the slightest breeze."

 

"Fair-weathered friends." Bucky Barnes agreed quietly. 

 

T'Challa smiled. "I am looking for an answer, in a decision I have not yet made. Would you listen as I try - to make up my mind upon such matters?"

 

Bucky simply turned to look at him, completely still and focused and waited. 

 

T'Challa nodded. "I do not know, is it better that I watch these proceedings and wait for the opportune moment to speak? Or do I intervene now - before their arguing has possibly strewn a rift that cannot be fixed and by which I could have mended." 

 

Bucky said nothing, merely waited, and T'Challa smiled. "I would," He said gently. "Be glad to consider your advice."

 

Bucky Barnes inclined his head with a frown. "It's not your responsibility to make sure that they all get along. They're all adults." He paused, eyes moving slowly to look at the spider-kid and the teenaged tree-like alien. "Well. Minus the two of 'em." 

 

"And if my inaction causes the path that leads to the destruction of our world?"

 

He was quiet for a long time. Only experience allowed T'Challa the insight to know that he wasn't being ignored; Bucky was just taking his time to mull everything over before he replied. 

 

"I think," Bucky answered slowly, "That you're being too hard on yourself. Your judgement is good. If you do not intervene, it is because your heart is telling to not to do so." Bucky's mouth pulled up in one corner. "Besides," He said, voice sounding more drawled suddenly. "I think Thor's got it covered anyways." 

 

T'Challa nodded, a small smile once again stealing across his face as well. 

 

Bucky's eyes lingered on the crowd, still and unmoving in his focus. 

 

"Do not worry," T'Challa soothed gently, and the shoulders of his companion stiffened as he did so. "He understands more than you think he does. You should give him the credit he has earned from you and do not worry about such things." 

 

"It's easy for you to say." Bucky said under his breath, turning his gaze away. Oblivious to it all, Steve Rogers carried on. 

 

"Yes." T'Challa agreed; he dod not say a word about how the quiet outburst was unusual for him. "It is easy. My judgement is not clouded."

 

Bucky Barnes smiled wryly, most definitely remembering a time when it had been. 

 

"It's easier to cast fair judgement on someone you do not love." T'Challa continued, gently.

 

Bucky abruptly and immediately turned, silently shouldered past him and walked away in a fluid pivot. 

 

T'Challa let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once I had used the word 'wallflower' in the summary, I had to use a 'Perks of Being a Wallflower' quote as the title. 
> 
> "But even if we don't have the power to choose where we came from, we can still choose where we go from there."
> 
> Also, if you thought there were Stucky vibes in this one, you were Exactly Right, my friend.


	5. Skeletons Aren't The Only Thing Matt Has Shoved In The Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daredevil College Drabble: Rated T
> 
> Foggy comes out of the closet for an entire fifteen minutes before Matt ruins it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible Spoilers: 
> 
> • Daredevil Season 1 
> 
> Possible Warnings: 
> 
> • Queerphobia (no harassment or slurs)
> 
> • Being forced into the closet to stay safe/happy and not stir up a queerphobic roommate

_______________________________

 

College, Foggy had thought, was going to be the time of their life.

 

They'd grown both their hair and their beard out the perfect amount to give off perfect those genderqueer vibes. 

 

And during the elevator ride to their dorm room, they had caught a wayward falling textbook from someone's armful of things. And the way that the thankful soul smiled gratefully as Foggy handed back the Intro To Historical Events: Pre WII textbook made their day because, holy cow, television drama shows were right; people did get hotter in college. 

 

"ਮੈਂ ਤੁਹਾਨੂੰ ਬਾਅਦ ਵਿੱਚ ਵਾਪਸ ਕਾਲ ਕਰਾਂਗਾ." The person giggled into the cell phone that they had balanced between their ear and shoulder. "ਮੇਰੀਆਂ ਸਾਰੀਆਂ ਕਿਤਾਬਾਂ ਡਿੱਗ ਰਹੀਆਂ ਹਨ." They let it fall into the box they were holding carefully, guiding the sliding motion with a tilt of their shoulder. 

 

"Thank you," They said in English. "My name's Amita." 

 

"Oh! No problem. I'm Foggy." Foggy hastened to reply instead of just staring into their deep brown eyes. 

 

They laughed again. "Foggy?" The asked, sounding unsure. 

 

"Yup, that's me." Foggy nodded and then paused. "Now that we're all introduced can I ask you an invasive and personal question?" 

 

Amita laughed again, charmed by Foggy's tone of voice, despite them still sounding unsure. "Alright?"

 

"Are you a girl? Because these aren't co-ed dorms, so you're either not a girl - which, right on! Like, same - " Foggy fist pumped in the air and then they waved vaguely to themself. " - I'm super trans myself! _Or_ you're in the wrong building, and in that case, it's better to find that out now." 

 

Amita's entire face fell. "Aw no, really? I'm a girl, and that means I _am_ in the wrong spot if you live here and you're not a girl. I must have been too distracted talking to my sister on the phone." 

 

Foggy's mouth twisted in a sympathetic grimace. "Aw man. That sucks."

 

Amita groaned. "Oh well. Thanks for telling me. I don't know what I would have done if I had carried all my stuff up and _then_ discovered it." 

 

Foggy waved the comment away literally, their hand moving in the air lazily. "No, don't even think anything of it. But I have another, less invasive but still personal question."

 

Amita smiled. "Alright." 

 

"On the phone earlier - what language was that?" Foggy asked curiously. 

 

Amita's warm smile made Foggy's heart stutter. "Punjabi." She answered. 

 

"Oh that's neat." Foggy nodded. "Must be cool to speak two languages." 

 

She replied with a shrug. "Since leaving home, I just use the one really. I miss having people around that speak it at my disposal anytime I want. I can call up my family to talk to them, but it's different than being back home and being able to go to, I don't know, a pastry shop and being able to just talk to all my friends there without thinking about it. So until I'm back home in Jersey - "

 

Foggy gasped, mock offended. "And just when I was starting to like you!" They cried out as if aghast. 

 

She laughed, grinning.

 

The elevator made a dinging sound and the doors opened and everything jolted minutely to a slow crawl. "Oh. This is me." Foggy realized, hesitating. 

 

"See you around, Foggy."

 

"Not if I see you first, Amita." Foggy said and then waved their hands quickly as they stepped over the elevator's doorway. "Okay, can we strike that from the record? That wasn't smooth at all."

 

Amita laughed. "Bye." She said simply, as the doors closed. 

 

Foggy stood there, amazed, for a couple minutes. "Wow." Foggy shook themself out of their stupor. "Wow." 

 

They desperately needed to change their language course. 

 

_______________________________________

 

The thing about new starts and fresh beginnings, Foggy supposed, was that they all depended on circumstance. 

 

This was college. It was Foggy's _time_ to be whoever they wanted to be. 

 

And in all this planning of great expectations, they never factored in how their roommate could impact that plan. 

 

_____________________________________

 

"Just a really, really good looking guy." Foggy nodded in agreement, mouth running away with themself as they chattered on. 

 

And Matt paused, his face twisting in visible discomfort and _oh._

 

Foggy swallowed nervously. 

 

Their chances at being out and proud for the first time in their life? Completely shot to hell. Their roommate was uncomfortable with casual flirting - and could Foggy even call that flirting? Truly to Matt, it just was more of a compliment between two guys, wasn't it? If that made Matt uncomfortable, there was no way that Foggy could, could have the limitless, no boundary expectations that they had imagined before this. 

 

And when Matt guessed knowingly, "I don't know....for a girl, maybe?" and smiled soft and adorable, Foggy seized the moment. 

 

Foggy sat up quickly. "This is what I'm talking about!" They beamed, trying to latch on to how the two of them could understand each other so well. See? They could move past this whole - mishap. Foggy would stay in the closet, and this roommate thing would go swimmingly. It wouldn't be a problem, and definitely everything would turn out just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Google Translate:
> 
> • ਮੈਂ ਤੁਹਾਨੂੰ ਬਾਅਦ ਵਿੱਚ ਵਾਪਸ ਕਾਲ ਕਰਾਂਗਾ means "I'll call you back later"
> 
>  
> 
> • ਮੇਰੀਆਂ ਸਾਰੀਆਂ ਕਿਤਾਬਾਂ ਡਿੱਗ ਰਹੀਆਂ ਹਨ means "All my books are falling"
> 
>  
> 
> Matt's queerphobia is more of a "I don't want my roommate to hit on me" situation. But in my headcanon of this, in college Matt also has internalized queerphobia and panics when anything in his life - say, his roommate, for example - could imply that he isn't straight.


	6. Foggy's Deli

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • Chapter 6 - Foggy's Deli: AU Foggy owns a deli, Matt's...still Matt Drabble: Rated T
> 
>  
> 
> Yesterday, Matt had accidentally stayed until midnight at a deli, too busy focusing on a case to notice anything else until the deli owner suggested that he should eat. Today, Matt can't seem to focus on anything _but_ the deli shop owner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible Spoilers: 
> 
> • None; it's an AU! Matt's still canon Matt - lawyer by day, Daredebil by night - but Foggy owns a deli/restaurant type thing. 
> 
> Possible Warnings:
> 
> • Food description
> 
>  
> 
> _______________________
> 
>  
> 
> INTRO NOTES:
> 
>    
> • (Set during Season 1 of the Netflix Daredevil)
> 
>  
> 
> • Matt got there, ordered like a croissant or something, and worked lunch time until late night 
> 
>  
> 
> • Foggy: "hey, do you?? want a sandwich or something??" 
> 
>  
> 
> • Matt, realized the time and the empty cafe (and his empty stomach): "Ah."
> 
>  
> 
> • Foggy, chattered good naturedly as Matt, embarrassed, begun to clean up
> 
>  
> 
> • "You're a lawyer? I was almost a lawyer! My family wanted me to be a lawyer! What a small world." 
> 
>  
> 
> • Matt, the next day: "Karen, do you want anything, I'm going back to the cute butcher....shop. The cute butcher shop, that's exactly what I said"
> 
>  
> 
> • Karen: mmHMMM,,, tell Foggy hi for me, 'kay?
> 
>  
> 
> _______________________

Matt thought about the way the freshly made mustard had melded near harmoniously with the herbaceous house-made pesto. (Matt wanted to buy that pesto by the gallon.) How the bitter arugula was offset by the slight, _slight_ sweetness of the mustard's honey. 

 

The memory of how the chicken breast that must have been marinated in house-made chicken stock as it had been oven roasted, along with its tomato slices that had clearly been cooked in the same pan and blistered to perfection. The warm, soft bread that wasn't quite wheat, wasn't quite sourdough but tasted somewhere in the middle of the two - some unique combination that he wanted to try again, wanted to pinpoint the exact ingredients this time around, down to the precise ratio of flour combinations. The simple sandwich that he had ordered with the mind set of thinking that it would be the least easy to have messed up, but instead it had exceeded all expectations. 

 

"It wasn't bad." Matt admitted with a tilt of one shoulder that maybe could have been classified as a shrug by an onlooker. He rested both hands on his cane nonchalantly. 

 

"Why," Foggy said breathily and leaned forward on his forearms as he braced his weight on the countertop to stretch over and grin up at Matt. "You sure know how to make someone swoon." Foggy fluttered his eyes. "I'm batting my lashes at you, by the way. All swooning-like." He propped up one arm and leaned his chin on his hand. "Consider me swooned." 

 

Matt's lips quirked upwards. "Will do." He promised. 

 

Foggy laughed brightly. 

 

"Well," Foggy said, and his breath carried a lingering undercurrent of laughter that only Matt would have hopes of picking up on, a half of a chuckle too quiet and too unintentional to be caught aloud. "What can I get you today?" 

 

Matt leaned forward, bracing himself on the counter in a similar fashion to how Foggy had done earlier, leaning on one forearm. "What do you recommend?" Matt asked, curious. 

 

Foggy's heart increased slightly, and Matt felt bad for suddenly putting the pressure on him to decide - and for mimicking a gesture Matt wasn't supposed to have known had happened. Matt leaned back, taking his arm off the counter completely and placing his hand in his pocket in one easy move. "I really want to try something new," Matt said nonchalantly. "But I'm also going to have to order that chicken sandwich again sometime. Too good not to." 

 

Foggy let out an amused huff of breath. "Yeah?" He asked, but he sounded like he already knew the answer and was just getting back into the easy groove of the earlier conversation before Matt had almost spoiled it. "If you like the 'Are You Chicken Me Out,' wait until you try the 'Oh Cluck.'" 

 

Matt snorted. 

 

Foggy triumphantly seized upon the noise. "Ha!" He grinned, widely, as he pointed at Matt. "I'm victorious." 

 

Matt lifted an eyebrow, trying to regain some composure, but it was increasingly difficult because Matt was suddenly aware that Foggy was kind of sweet and far too easy to talk to. Matt couldn't remember the last conversation with someone that he had that had lasted this long, let alone one that he had enjoyed. "Oh?" He asked, swallowing down his nerves at the realization. Because even if the food hadn't been amazing, maybe Matt would have come back anyways to seek out Foggy anyways solely because of it - or maybe he would never have reached that epiphany in the first place, and that was a thought that shouldn't have been nearly as alarming as it was. 

 

"I'm nodding my head," Foggy narrated earnestly. "Between you and me? I think it'd almost be funnier if it was named 'Oh Fuck' instead of 'Oh Cluck,' but I mean. I don't want to offend any delicate sense and _or_ sensibilities." 

 

Matt definitely, definitely did not think that was charming. 

 

Matt was never the type of person to take things slowly. He always dove right into things headfirst and dealt with the consequences later. Maybe that was why - okay, it was _definitely_ why, who was he trying to fool? - that he went from viewing Foggy as a friendly acquaintance to an enamoring friend in the span of the lengthy conversation that hadn't even finished yet. 

 

"Mm." Matt hummed vaguely, as he stalled. "I'm sure you...pride yourself on not alarming any of the customers that are... more prejudiced, shall we say, against such language." 

 

"Tsk, tsk," Foggy said in mock sorrow. "That was a bit of a stretch, and you know it; you didn't even say the 'and.'" 

 

Matt cocked his head. "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean."

 

Foggy spluttered. "You - yes you do! I said 'sense and/or sensibilities' and so you said the word 'pride,'" Foggy paused for a long meaningful moment to indicate the distinct lack of a conjunction before continuing. "Also the word 'prejudice.' But!" Foggy waggled a finger. "You did _not_ say the 'and.' The title is Pride _And_ Prejudice." 

 

Matt smiled. "Even if I had done that," He said glibly. "You said "'And slash or.'"

 

"Mine was just a - a seizing of opportunity! A passionate spur of the moment impulse!" Foggy scoffed. "You thought yours out, and you had ample time to be precise."

 

"I did, didn't I?" Matt was charmed. Officially and thoroughly charmed. 

 

Foggy nodded firmly. "Yup. And I just nodded, which is the final decider that I'm right, for your information." 

 

"Sounds logical." Matt agreed. 

 

"Oh definitely." Foggy said. "Mathematical too, I bet." 

 

"Mm, well," Matt grinned slyly. "It is if you nod." 

 

Foggy laughed. "You really _do_ know how to make a person swoon." He sounded somewhat amazed. 

 

Matt shrugged his shoulders like it didn't please him _enormously_ to hear Foggy say that. "So I've heard." 

 

"You're bad with compliments?" Foggy realized in glee, and Matt startled at that unexpected - and _accurate_ \- deduction. "Oh, buddy, you gloriously awkward soul, how are people not just smothering you in compliments? You have the face of a - a - " Foggy snapped his fingers as he pieced together what he wanted to say. "Of a wounded duck!" 

 

Matt nearly choked. 

 

"Of a - what?" Matt asked. 

 

Foggy shook his head sadly. "Also, it is kind of definitely a crime - a _crime_ I'm telling you - if no one has told you how pretty you are. Because you are. You're like - stupidly pretty. And you're like Gomez Addams levels of suave-y, smoothness - but minus the gothness," He added with a jerking incline of chin as he thought. "So," Foggy frowned. "I'm having a really difficult time believing that no one has succumbed to the urge to tell you all of this. I know someone has had to have said it before me."

 

"No," Matt replied, voice high in the back of his throat, strangled. He coughed. "No, no one has, uh, said... any of it."

 

"Really?" Foggy's eyebrows shot up. 

 

"Just you. You're the only one." His voice still came out much too squeaky. Matt softly cleared his throat again, trying for subtle. He took his hand out of his pocket and rejoined it with his other hand, curved around his cane handle. 

 

"The only one who's said it to your face, maybe." Foggy muttered, clearly with no intention of Matt overhearing it. 

 

There was a beat of silence. 

 

"So," Foggy said, and he seemed to know exactly how to fill the quiet with his charisma. "Did you still want my recommendation for dinner?" 

 

Matt smiled. "As long as you don't say duck."

 

"Well, fuck, I'll see if I can still manage, but I just don't know now that duck's off the menu." Foggy said in faux exasperation, shaking his head. His grin lit up his entire face, his cheeks radiating heat as he then flushed with contained laughter, his shoulders trembled with each breath as he tried not to burst into laughter and ruin the joking facade of being serious even though both of them knew it was exactly that - a charade. 

 

Foggy tilted his head, pursed his almost-laughing lips. "How do you feel about goose?" 

 

"In a sandwich?" He hadn't meant to sound so doubtful but - well. 

 

"I'll scratch it off my list then." Foggy inhaled roughly, even though he had yet to exhale, the oncoming laughter closer to the surface of his breath as the punchline approached. "And the gander as well then. Because if the goose is no good, then neither is the gander." 

 

And Foggy finally let out the wheezing, laughing breath that he had been trying not to let out so as not to betray the oncoming joke with. 

 

And Matt slowly blinked, his hands tightening around the grip of his cane as something in his chest felt i explicably warm. 

 

Except it wasn't _inexplicable_ because Matt _could_ explain it. 

 

Foggy continued to laugh, and Matt listened, awed. 

 

 _And, oh,_ Matt realized. _It was that easy to develop a crush on someone._

 

"That's not how the phrase goes." Matt observed, trying to play it cool like he didn't just realize how gone he was for Foggy. 

 

"Eh. Tomatoes, potatoes." Foggy shrugged. 

 

"To-mah-toes, po-tah-toes?" Matt offered in the attempts to make Foggy laugh. 

 

He didn't laugh but he did get excited over it. _And, really, that should count for something,_ Matt thought. 

 

Foggy nodded quickly. "That's! Ah, geez, clever. I mean, not _clever_ clever but - ah." Foggy cut himself off, sounding embarrassed over his exuberant, albeit slightly incohesive, response. 

 

Matt smiled. "Well, I've got to try and keep up with you, now haven't I?" 

 

Foggy quietly, sharply inhaled. 

 

"Right you are, my friend!" Foggy said cheerfully, a moment late. His heartbeat had sped up and kept that steady, flustered rhythm. 

 

And call Matt cocky but he felt pretty confident that that was a good thing - and that he could take credit for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I can't believe I forgot to tell y'all that Foggy's nonbinary in this! 
> 
> I was originally going to write this as a oneshot where Matt assumes Foggy is a cis man but along the way, as they become friends, Foggy tells him that they use they/them pronouns. (Although sometimes I do write he/him nonbinary Foggy)


	7. I'm Mr. Brightside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace!Mary Jane: **Rated M**
> 
>  
> 
> Mary Jane has always had sex with every single one of her boyfriends. Then there's Flash, and that changes everything. 
> 
>  
> 
> (please read the warnings)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible Spoilers: 
> 
> • None
> 
>  
> 
> **Possible Warnings:**
> 
>  
> 
> • Dub-con/Non-consenting themes due to following heteronormative relationship expectations that are required by parents 
> 
>  
> 
> • (MJ feels pressured by her parents to have sex with her boyfriends to convince them that she's 'normal') 
> 
>  
> 
> • Implied child abuse
> 
>  
> 
> • Mentions of sexuality, queerphobia, acephobia, and heteronormativity 
> 
>  
> 
> • Minor OC character harasses MJ off screen, but it's mentioned on screen afterwards 
> 
>  
> 
> __________________

"Can I - can I ask you something?" Peter said suddenly, shifting as he nervously rubbed one wrist. His bouncing leg noticeably shook the table. His face turned pink as he stared down at his moving limbs and paused for an answer. 

 

"Sure." She replied, having a pretty good idea where this was going. 

 

It wasn't exactly a secret that Peter Parker had a crush on her, and their classmates never had really let it be. 

 

Sometimes, the reminder came as a relief to her. There were times that she feared the only people who liked her nowadays were people like Eddie, and it terrified her to think that maybe she attracted trouble. But then there was Peter Parker, who was a hopeless nerd but also her neighbor that silently smiled over trash cans every time she thought that there wasn't anything good left in the world. 

 

Sometimes, even though she was grateful for Peter, she worried what would happen when he realized that he should stop waiting for her to fall in love with him - and that he should give up on her. She worried about that a lot. What would their relationship be after that - or would it just crumble apart? 

 

Would Peter never step deliberately outside to pretend to take out the trash when he heard the fighting coming from her house? If he realized she would never love him romantically, would they never again have those brief but consolidating moments upon which he anchored her back to the world by his presence? 

 

It terrified her. 

 

So, yes, she knew what he was probably going to ask. And she was ready for it. _No, Peter, I'm sorry, but I have a boyfriend. Now, come on - this math test won't study itself!_ She was prepared. She always was. 

 

Peter took a breath. 

 

"Mary Jane." He said slowly. "Why, um. Why are you dating Flash?"

 

Mary Jane froze, taken off guard. 

 

"What?" She asked, utterly surprised. 

 

"Well," Peter released his wrist and scratched at it. "It's just - I mean - firstly, obviously, you're really great. Like ten out of ten people would date. And you're obviously pretty, and Flash is pretty - not that - not that _that_ matters, uh. But what I really mean, what I really don't get is: you're so nice, and Flash is... well..." 

 

_And Flash was a jerk._

 

Mary Jane knew it, Peter knew it, the whole school knew it; heck, the only person who _didn't_ know it was _Flash_ himself. 

 

"So, I was just - wondering." Peter continued. "I just thought - it didn't add up. I mean, you deserve better."

 

"Like you?" She asked, aiming for a lighthearted and teasing tone but also vividly aware that it was the truth. 

 

"Nah." Peter shook his head and sincerely smiled. "You're way too good for someone like me." 

 

Mary Jane closed her eyes. 

 

Her heart felt like someone was squeezing it, grasping too tightly. 

 

Mary Jane sighed, exhausted, as she opened her eyes again; she kept her gaze on the table and didn't look up at Peter. 

 

Peter wasn't asking as someone trying to figure out how best to woo the best of their dreams. He was asking as a _friend._

 

Because Peter thought they were friends. 

 

(Mary Jane had hoped so but she had never dared label it as such.) 

 

"Flash is - safe." She said, struggling to explain in a way that wouldn't reveal too much but would offer Peter some semblance of the truth. "People expect me to date Flash. And Flash is, well, _Flash_ but he's - "

Mary Jane paused, unwillingly to divulge the way Flash hadn't ever questioned her cliched excuses of having a headache whenever he showed interest in anything physical. The way that his face had begun to dawn in slow understanding one day when she had said it yet again, and how he had brought his hand from high on her thigh to resting on his own knee without speaking another word about it. And how from then on, Mary Jane didn't need to give excuses anymore because he seemed to have understood what all of her previous boyfriends never had. 

 

"Flash is safe." Mary Jane repeated, shrugging. She knew that her answer would baffle Peter, but it was the truth. It was the most she could offer, and she wanted to be able to give him some sort if explanation. 

 

To Peter, Flash was the person that threw him into lockers, stole his homework, broke his glasses. 

 

But to her, Flash was the person that kept one arm around her shoulder and the other arm to himself. 

 

Flash was the person that had gotten suspended for dislocating the arm of the varsity quarterback, her ex, when he had grabbed at her ass in the middle of the cafeteria. 

 

Flash was a bully and an asshole, and that's all Peter probably would know him as. But to her, Flash meant not having to worry. She trusted Flash. 

 

If it wasn't Flash that she was dating, it'd be some other athlete. Some other guy that, without question, was the effigy of masculinity. Was everything a male was 'supposed to be' when she took him home and paraded him around to her parents before she dragged him to her room. Her parents would mutter things about her under their breath as she did so, but the next day her parents would eye her in something akin to approval, as if she had finally accomplished something they could understand. 

 

(That whenever he came over - whenever she pulled him into her room and closed the door behind them - her parents wouldn't disturb them. That she could get _hours_ and hours away from her parents if she did that. And it was so, so _worth it_ to have to deal with whatever guy she was dating to be able to ensure that safety, however relative it may be. It was no comparison.)

 

But it _was_ Flash that she was dating now. And that changed everything. 

 

It meant that the charade was mostly over when her bedroom door was closed. That Flash had, in the beginning, thought what every other boy had thought when she took him to her room and closed the door and turned the lock and turned some music on loud. But then somehow along the way he had _understood_ and he began bringing over his phone charger; and he would send her friend requests on a plethora of apps. Sometimes he even brought homework, but that was more rare. It meant that Mary Jane could lay on the bed, and Flash would lay on the rug on the floor without prompting or asking to join her. 

 

It meant how one day Flash cautiously asked her how she wanted him to answer his friends' reoccurring questions on whether or not they've banged yet. And when she told him to tell them yes, he nodded. And he didn't say anything about how they very clearly had not banged - and how very clearly they would not bang. He just - had accepted it. 

 

And Mary Jane didn't have the words to explain this to Peter. And she didn't exactly want to explain why this was such a big deal. 

 

That she _had_ to have a boyfriend, and, by God, Flash was the best possible option out there - better than she could ever have hoped. He was the epitome of masculine, he simultaneously impressed her parents and scared her parents, and he was kind to her in ways she hadn't ever anticipated or experienced with her previous boyfriends. 

 

Peter scrunched up his nose in clear disagreement with Flash being labeled as _safe,_ but he didn't protest her answer. 

 

Mary Jane felt like her heart could burst. 

 

"Peter?" She blurted out. She hadn't meant to. She could brush it off, say follow up with something else, except, except - 

 

"Do you ever feel - " She stared down at her hands, fingers clutching in between the chain link fence. "Do you ever have to pretend to be someone that you're not?"

 

Peter made a strangled noise, and her head shot up. 

 

"Peter?" She fretted. 

 

He waved his hands in the air, back and forth continuously. 

 

"No, no." He wheezed finally. "You just - caught me off guard." 

 

"What brought this on?" Peter asked finally. 

 

Mary Jane paused. "Oh. It's...nothing."

 

Peter squinted at her, brown eyes blinking skeptically. "Okay." He said, sounding unconvinced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really, really wanted to write a fic about Mary Jane being ace. And this was going to be a whole in depth story but I just have never finished it. (I didn't even touch on how - in this story - she's a lesbian but I was Going To)
> 
>    
> I had planned to elaborate how Peter's in the closet about being nonbinary (and being Spiderman) but was debating telling MJ about it 
> 
>  
> 
> And then I had a whole "Peter discoveries they're ace" story arc that would prompt MJ into going "Wait WHAT" and realizing that that's a thing. And just then the two of them being ace buddies (and giggling together about how cute Gwen Stacy is) 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, btw, this MJ is based more off the Tobey Spiderman movies, literally just because MJ lives right next door to Peter in that movie. 
> 
>  
> 
> ______________________
> 
>  
> 
> Also, before any of you guys comment anything like 'okay but what parent would actively want their kid to have sex?' 
> 
>  
> 
> I literally know - _and have interacted with_ \- parents who are like MJ's parents in that aspect
> 
>  
> 
> Heteronormativity is so wild, guys. And kids will do a lot to try and be whatever their parents define as 'normal.' 
> 
>  
> 
> So here's a friendly reminder from your local queer that heterosexuality is not the norm, and it's not a requirement. You don't have to date anyone. Ever. You don't have to have sex with anyone. Ever. And anyone who tries to make you feel abnormal for that _is wrong._
> 
>  
> 
> This particular MJ represents only one fictional person on the ace spectrum; ace people come in all sorts. So ace - and non ace! - people that do have sex are definitely also valid, and you also have a friendly reminder that no one has a right to make you feel bad about that either.


	8. Peter & Pals: Movie Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Parker & Pals Drabble 1: Rated T
> 
> Peter invites all of their friends to hang out for a movie day. Mary Jane, Gwen, and Johnny show up. Harry doesn't. It's still a nice day, even if they are sad about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: 
> 
> None
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings:
> 
> Minor argument between friends 
> 
> Food mentions 
> 
>  
> 
> __________________
> 
>  
> 
> Mary Jane and Gwen are dating (The story is gen focused tho) 
> 
>  
> 
> Peter is autistic and nonbinary
> 
>  
> 
> Johnny Storm is trans

_____________________________

"It'd be so cool to live together." Peter said idly, fingers running paths in between the smooth pleats of the back of Mary Jane's satin blouse. "I think it would be fun. If we all lived together." 

 

"We would all get cabin fever - and probably argue over who used the end of the fabric softener." Gwen shrugged. 

 

"You use fabric softener?" Johnny asked, surprised.

 

"Oh my gosh, Johnny, you utter barbarian, _yes,_ I use fabric softener." 

 

"If we all lived together, I would definitely throw Johnny out of a window." Mary Jane agreed, amused. 

 

Johnny finally looked up from his phone. "Hey!" He protested, thumb still poised to continued texting but now forgotten. "I swear I'll throw this throw pillow at you. Don't think that I won't; it's literally called a _throw_ pillow, don't tempt me." 

 

"Mmmm," Gwen hummed chidingly. "I wouldn't, if I were you." 

 

Mary Jane smiled smugly. 

 

"Ugh, that's totally cheating." Johnny grumbled. "I need to get me a bae too, that's no fair. You guys are _cheating_ you can't just team up on me like that because you smooch!" 

 

In an exemplary example of maturity, Mary Jane stuck out her tongue. 

 

" _Ugh!_ " 

 

______________________________________

 

The house phone attached to Peter's wall rang, startling all of them. 

 

"Oh, that might be Aunt May!" Peter said, already having scrambled to their feet, lifting it off the wall receiver on the third ring. 

 

"Peter?" 

 

"Harry!" Peter beamed, turning away from their friends as if that gave them any more privacy than facing them would have. 

 

"Hey," Harry Osborn breathed out softly.

 

"You almost here yet?" Peter asked, staring at the ground low enough that felt their eyelashes wisp against their cheek as they blinked, biting their lip hopefully as they twirled the coiled telephone wire around their finger in eager spirals. 

 

Harry's voice ironed out into a much flatter tone. "Is everyone still coming?"

 

"Mmm!" Peter nodded. "Everyone's already here but you!" 

 

"I'm not going to be able to make it." Harry announced, and Peter's eyes flew up automatically, surprised.

 

"What?" Peter gasped softly. "You're serious?" 

 

There was a pause. "Maybe," Harry said slowly. "Maybe you and I could catch up together some other time. Just the two of us." 

 

A nagging feeling somewhere deep inside caused Peter to blurt out, "Are you not coming because it's not just us?" 

 

Harry inhaled sharply. 

 

"Harry." Peter scolded softly. "Please come over. I want to see you. And I want you to meet my friends." 

 

"I don't think your friends and I would....get along." Harry finally admitted apprehensively. 

 

Peter gaped for a long moment. 

 

" _What?_ What are you even talking about, Harry? My friends would love you! _Are_ going to love you!" 

 

"Well for starters, Mary Jane seems like the type of person who eats peoples' souls for breakfast and spits them back out." 

 

Peter squinted, face scrunched in silent confusion. 

 

They glanced over their shoulder to look at Mary Jane, who was throwing entire handfuls of Skittles towards Johnny's general vicinity in the attempts that he would catch some of them with his mouth. Johnny squawked as one handful landed mostly down the front of his v-neck. Mary Jane guffawed, snorting, as she dropped the remaining Skittles, clutched her stomach, and laughed. 

 

Johnny began trying to reach down his shirt and between his binder to get the candy out and simultaneously also dump the bowl of Skittles over Mary Jane's head, who shrieked gleefully as she scrambled away, hurrying over to sit in her girlfriend's lap for protection. 

 

Peter turned back to face the wall, mouthing a silent _'what the heck, Harry?'_

 

"Peter?" Harry's voice reminded them that they were expected to respond. 

 

"What the heck, Harry?" Peter said, but this time out loud. 

 

Harry spluttered ungracefully. "What?" He demanded, after he must have regained his composure. "I'm right!"

 

"You're??? Wrong???" Peter shrugged, tucking their available hand underneath their armpit tightly. "I think you're being way too harsh." 

 

Harry scoffed angrily. "Well you _would_ think that. But that's only because they actually _like_ you; otherwise you'd see where I'm coming from."

 

Peter frowned. "They would like you too if you gave them the chance! _You're_ the one who keeps cancelling! Not them! You can't keep saying my friends won't ever like you when you won't even give them a chance!"

 

Vaguely, Peter became aware of how quiet the room had become when their heaving breaths seemed loud. 

 

Peter winced, and refused to turn around to check everyone's reactions. 

 

Harry finally spoke, voice small. "I thought _I_ was your friend. Peter."

 

Peter gaped. Jaw dropped in offended horror because _what exactly was Harry trying to imply by that - that's so Rude._

 

After a long moment of continued silence, Harry sighed. "Well, I can see how it is now that I've been replaced. Don't let me waste any more of your time - "

 

"Wait - " Peter hastily interrupted. "Harry, wait just a - hey! Hey! Okay? Yeah?"

 

Harry didn't hang up, so Peter counted that as a success. Peter briefly closed their eyes in relief. 

 

"You _are_ my friend." Peter said firmly. "I can have more than one friend. Is that what's been bothering you? I know I never - had a surplus before, but. I thought. I thought you'd be happy for me? I didn't realize you'd be jealous, so - "

 

"I'm not jealous!" Harry snapped, sounding embarrassed. 

 

Peter paused.

 

"You're not?" Peter asked, unable to keep the skeptical tone out of their voice. "Okay. So why aren't you here?"

 

Harry scoffed. "I told you. I don't want to get in the way of your new friends. I know they won't like me." 

 

"How can you know that?" Peter demanded. "You've only met them once! For less than ten minutes!" 

 

"I can just tell, Peter." 

 

"You're so frustrating, you know that?"

 

"Then why are you even friends with me?" Harry asked bitingly. 

 

Peter groaned. "Listen, you under-watered cactus that someone put  
in an otherwise lifeless office cubicle but now it's starting to wilt and shrivel up even though it's nearly impossible to kill a cactus - "

 

From behind them, Johnny made a choking noise, trying to suppress his laughter. It reminded Peter to get back on track. 

 

Peter continued on, "You're my friend. And I'll - I'll fight you if you keep implying that I don't actually want to be friends with you. Because that's _rude,_ Harry. So. So don't make me fight you."

 

The soft sound of the static of the telephone line and the minute sound of Harry's breathing went on for ages. 

 

"....Harry?" Peter finally asked, cautious and hesitant. 

 

Harry let out a snort. "Goodnight, Peter." 

 

And he hung up.

 

Peter stared at the phone. 

 

"Right." They said to themself, and hung the phone back up on the wall. 

 

"Everything okay, Peter?" Gwen gently asked. 

 

Peter sat down besides her, crossing their legs ungracefully. They rested their head on her shoulder wearily. 

 

"I need, like... a whole bunch of miniature marshmallows. Pronto." Peter decided sadly and held up one palm. 

 

"Here you go, babe." Mary Jane said as she carefully transferred a handful of them to his open palm, balancing to stay seated in Gwen's lap as she stretched to grab from the bowl. 

 

"Thanks." Peter sighed tiredly. 

 

"No offense," Johnny said, worried lines deepening between his eyebrows as he stared at Peter in concern, "But Harry's kind of a total jerk."

 

Peter groaned quietly into Gwen's shoulder. 

 

"Shh, there there." Mary Jane comforted him and gave him a soft pat on his head. "Johnny, do me a favor?" She asked. 

 

"Mm." He replied, sounding uncommitted enough to cop out if he didn't want to but still sounding mostly in the affirmative. 

 

"Shut up." 

 

"I am offended." Johnny placed a hand over his heart theatrically. "I am _wounded._ I am - lest I say it aloud and cement this admission of truth?" Johnny stared off into the distance, a tragic expression on his face as he pretended to contemplate. "I shall."

 

Peter turned their head and looked over from their perch on Gwen's shoulder. 

 

"I am _betrayed_ \- alas! I have spoken it!" Johnny draped his wrist over his forehead in woe while his other hand clutched his shirt in a tight fist. "Mary Jane, you foul villain, must you perish our bonds of friendship and throw me into such anguish?" 

 

Mary Jane snorted. "Anguish?" She sneered, reaching her hand and lifting it as if she too were monologuing in a play. "I beseech you to discover the true meaning of that word and return whence upon you do so! And perhaps then - if your journeys be long and your battles be fierce - then, possibly, you may come to learn. Speak not to me of betrayal until you understand this fatal blow you had inflicted upon the one we both named as our friend. Until you - "

 

She pointed suddenly and accusingly towards Johnny. 

 

" - had felled them with _your_ betrayal. Such sharper words were never said, in such a tender moment of uncertainty!" 

 

She clutched Peter's head with both her hands then, reaching over Gwen easily to do so. "And now look!" She smushed Peter's face between her hands, their cheeks smooshing beneath her touch to make them resemble a gaping fish. "Dead! The results of such brutish words! How you speak to me of betrayal! When it is _you_ who has taken the moon from the night sky, and slain them down! To leave us dwelling in eternal darkness without their luminesce!" 

 

Johnny opened his mouth and then paused. 

 

"Okay, I've - I've lost the plot a bit here." He admitted. 

 

"What?" Mary Jane released Peter and crossed her arms. 

 

Peter debated if they wanted to immediately move away upon being released or stay there but ending up moving off of Gwen shoulder after a few seconds of thinking, lest Mary Jane try to smush their face again. 

 

Johnny waved his hands quickly. "Like!" He scrunched up his face. "Is Peter a metaphor now?" 

 

Mary Jane groaned in frustration, slouching as she slid off of Gwen's lap to sit on the carpet in emotional defeat. "You've killed the mood."

 

"What?" Johnny yelped and then swiveled to look at Peter and Gwen, somewhat distressed. "Back me up here! It was getting weird with the moon thing and the face stroking!"

 

"I didn't _stroke_ Peter's face!" Mary Jane protested. "It was a mournful caress!"

 

"On their face?" Johnny scoffed. 

 

Johnny waved his hands quickly. "Like!" He quickly defended himself, "And why is Peter dead now! Huh? And why is he the moon? And how is he the moon _if he's dead?_ Check and mate, MJ." 

 

Mary Jane groaned and rolled her eyes. "Ugh. Tell my agent that I'm never working with amateurs again." 

 

"Tell your agent to cash me outside, how 'bout dat?" Johnny rebutted. 

 

Peter burst out laughing. 

 

"Bingo." Johnny whispered gleefully. 

 

Peter's eyebrows scrunched slightly, their smiled turning more bemused than anything. 

 

"Johnny you're such an _amateur._ " Mary Jane stressed again, smiling still playing at the corner of her lips at she looked from Peter to Johnny. "You like a certain...subtly." 

 

Johnny huffed. "Well sor-ry. We can't all be models _and_ actors, you know." 

 

"Are you saying that you're just a pretty face?" Gwen asked dryly. 

 

Johnny paused. "...Huh."

 

"Well if the shoe fits." Mary Jane shrugged. 

 

" _Hey._ " Johnny protested. 

 

Peter snorted. 

 

At the sound, Johnny's mock scowl immediately slid right off of his face. 

 

A mini marshmallow doinked off of his forehead - Mary Jane's arms and wrists still posed as if shooting a free throw - and it just set off another round of chaos. 

 

Peter leaned their head back on to Gwen's shoulder, feeling content even with all of the previous anxiety still running its course through their body. They weren't going to forget the stress of the Harry situation anytime soon. But they could distract themself. And they could trust their friends to have their back. 

 

"You know....I still have silly string in my purse." Gwen murmured quietly to Peter, conspiringly, as Mary Jane and Johnny gleefully pelted each other with Tootsie Rolls. 

 

Peter smiled. 

 

"Yeah," They agreed. "That sounds exactly good." 

 

Gwen snorted in amusement. 

 

"You know what I mean." Peter nudged her shoulder with their chin and then lifted it from the previous perch it had there. 

 

"Yeah. I do." Gwen grabbed the purse at her side and began to rummage in it. "And Peter?"

 

"Yeah?" 

 

Gwen smiled. "It'll work out."

 

Peter nodded. "Thanks, Gwe- _HOLY swiss cheese!_ "

 

They leapt to their feet and tried to run away from the abrupt onslaught of silly string that suddenly had sieged upon them, feet clumsily toppling over bowls as they did so, sending candy flying every which way up into the air. 

 

Gwen cackled. 

 

She sprayed the room at large, and Mary Jane and Johnny finally stopped throwing candy and threw their arms over their head as a makeshift shield. 

 

"Hey!" 

 

"Wait a minute!"

 

"No mercy!" Gwen vowed, spraying them as they spluttered, hands slapping at the string in a feeble attempt to not be attacked by silly string. Peter crawled under the bed frame and hid, laughing, as they watched. 

 

"I'm your literal girlfriend!" Mary Jane protested.

 

"All's fair in love and....war...." Gwen stared at the sputtering can that began to only spray small spurts as it neared its end. "Ah shoot." 

 

Lowering her hands, Mary Jane eyed Johnny cautiously. "Truce?"

 

"Truce." He agreed solemnly. 

 

They both bent to grab bowls of candy that hadn't yet been upended and started approaching Gwen. 

 

"Now wait just a minute - " Gwen warned, holding up a finger. 

 

Mary Jane cocked her head and paused, elbowing Johnny, and he paused too. 

 

"Huh, I didn't expect that to work." Gwen admitted. 

 

Johnny snorted. 

 

"Peter? What's the verdict?"

 

"Wuh - " Peter tried to say, mouthful of licorice. They chewed quickly and cleared their throat. "Um, uh, verdict is...that you guys are cleaning this all up before my aunt gets home." 

 

"Wait, what - " 

 

"Oh shit really?"

 

" _Peter._ "

 

"Okay, fine, I'll help." Peter muttered and then paused, wriggling slightly. "But...let's watch the movie first?"

 

Gwen, Mary Jane, and Johnny all looked at each other. 

 

"Yeah." Gwen said softly. "We can do that." 

 

"You wanna come out or do you want to stay under there?" Johnny asked, peering at Peter. 

 

Peter bit their lip, thinking the offer over. "Uhhhh." 

 

"Do you want me to get you your blanket and pillow?" Mary Jane offered, bemused. 

 

"Oh my God, would you?" Peter gushed happily. 

 

"We can try to tuck you in." Gwen offered, knowing full well how enticing of an offer it was. 

 

"We'll make you as snug as a bug in a rug." Mary Jane murmured. 

 

Johnny's face lit up in pure joy. " _Yeah_ ," He agreed, trying for nonchalant. "A bug in a rug." 

 

"You're too kind." Peter deadpanned, lifting unimpressed eyebrows towards Johnny. 

 

But they happily accepted Mary Jane and Gwen's help to wrap the blanket around to create the best of pressure stims - like the most comforting of hugs but _better_ \- inside of their snug little burrow they were perched in under the bed. Johnny scooped up the candy that covered the area of rug closest to bed while they did so, and the three of them arranged themselves around Peter carefully to avoid blocking their view of the television. 

 

"I love you guys." Peter murmured against their pillow, halfway into watching _The Little Mermaid_ and utterly content. 

 

"Love you too." Johnny replied easily. 

 

"Yeah," Gwen gently said. "Love you." 

 

"Maybe I wouldn't throw Johnny out of a window if we all lived together." Mary Jane commented musingly. "Maybe." 

 

Peter snorted. 

 

" _Hey,_ come _on_." Johnny pouted. 

 

"I'm just kidding." Mary Jane lazily added. "I love you all too." 

 

"I know." Peter said, a warm feeling in their chest, their smile wide and smushed against their pillow. They wriggled joyfully in their cocoon of a blanket, feeling happy and warm and loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many ideas about this group of friends and their dynamics. Like, I love when they all get along immediately but I also love exploring when they don't. 
> 
> And friends as found family is my weakness, I'm sorry, so I just Have Feelings about Peter having a squad


	9. Keep On Trying With My Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Defenders AU Canon Divergence: Rated T
> 
> Elektra deserved better. (And still does) The Defenders try to help but also try to stop the Hand at the same time. Not much actually gets accomplished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers:
> 
> • The Defenders Season 1
> 
> • Daredevil Seasons 1 & 2
> 
>    
> Possible Warnings: 
> 
> • References to a previous unhealthy relationship 
> 
>  
> 
> What you should know:
> 
>  
> 
> • **AU Canon Divergence** \- AU set when Elektra goes to Matt's empty apartment and sleeps there, trying to remember. In this story, Matt came home the next day, and Elektra listened to him try to explain what had happened.
> 
>    
> • Story picks up after they've been talking for hours. 
> 
> __________________

 

_____________________________________

 

Elektra's mouth parted with a soft sound, about to speak, but then hesitated. 

 

"What is it?" Matt asked gently. 

 

"It does not sound, to me.... like you did love me." She mused. And while her tone was demure, Matt reared back from the harshness of her bluntness, the near accusation in her words. 

 

"What?" He gasped. 

 

"You say that you - " She pursed her lips, finding the words. "Would have followed me until the ends of the Earth, obeyed me without question." 

 

"Of course. I loved you." Matt repeated firmly. "I fought by your side. I would have fought by your side forever. If you gave me permission, I would still - " Matt cut himself off. "When you needed me, I was there for you. Even when we left on - on uncertain terms. When you came back asking me for help, I dropped everything to help you. And I always will." 

 

Elektra shook her head, long black hair moving silkily with the motion. "It sounds, to my ears, like I commanded you. And you carried out my commands dutifully."

 

Matt shook his head. "It wasn't like that. For example, I didn't agree with everything you did or your methods - "

 

"But if I wanted you to do something, you did it. Yes? Even if you disagreed with it or did not want to do it? Yes?" 

 

Matt hesitated. "Not always." It sounded hollow even in his own ears. 

 

Elektra leaned back. "How can such a thing be love?" 

 

"You don't understand." Matt tried to explain. "The way we were - it was love. And it was passionate, and with that passion sometimes maybe we did things we shouldn't have, but we were like fire together, Elektra." 

 

"There are many things," Elektra said quietly. "That I do not understand. But don't you dare presume to tell me what those things are." 

 

Matt's face fell. "Elektra, I - "

 

"I'd like some time, alone, to reflect." She interrupted, turning in her chair to face away from him. 

 

Matt sighed. Then stood up. "Alright." 

 

_________________

 

"Oh." Karen said, stopping in her tracks. 

 

Elektra's eyebrows rose minutely. "We have met." She realized, not recalling the encounter in the slightest but clearly reading it upon the blonde's face. 

 

Karen's mouth twisted. "Um. Yeah. No. I, uh," She looked around the apartment, as if hoping to catch Matt or have him interrupt the conversation. "I saw you when you were, uh, unconscious."

 

"Unconscious." Elektra repeated blandly, her curiosity piqued but unsure of how to show it. 

 

"On - on Matt's bed." Karen clarified, voice strained, looking anywhere but at Elektra. 

 

"And you were... are angry about it?" 

 

That made Karen look at her. 

 

"Look, it wasn't your fault." Karen said, and she approached one of the armchairs sinking down into it tiredly with a sigh. "Probably." She tacked on, unsure. "I mean, Matt probably didn't - that is to say - look." Karen pinched the bridge of her nose with three of her fingers. "I blame Matt for what happened. You weren't _involved_ with me; and Matt was. You didn't - it's not your fault that he - " Karen sighed. She looked towards the ceiling and let out a quiet and bitter laugh. "Yeah." She said finally, with a small wave of her hand. "We've met." 

 

"So I did sleep with Matthew." Elektra mused. 

 

Karen briefly gaped somewhat, mouth parting less in disbelief and more in upset at the bluntness of it. "Um." She gathered herself back up and eyed Elektra curiously, eyebrows scrunched together. "You say that like you don't remember." Without Elektra having to even say a word, Karen saw something on her face shift, and Karen bit her lip before asking, "You _don't_ remember, do you?" Elektra shook her head, and Karen's eyes softened, her expression smoothed out into one of pity. "That must be...tough." Karen offered sympathetically. 

 

Elektra looked away. "Perhaps it is. The little that I have to compare it to tells me that it is but a small thing, in the scheme of all around us. And yet I...yearn to remember." She confessed, unsure as to of why. "I yearn for only one other thing, as equally so. I don't believe I'll acquire either of them."

 

"What it is?" Karen asked. "What else do you want?"

 

"I want Matthew." Elektra answered, and Karen took a sharp inhale of breath. Elektra finally turned to look at her once more. "I want to feel my love for him. I want to feel his love for me. I remember glimpses... of having - having felt these things. But I don't feel them now, even though the memory of that is what keeps me....." Elektra paused, amazed. "Hoping." She realized. "Keeps me hoping." 

 

Karen paused, completely unequipped on how to continue the conversation but very much feeling the tremendous and awkward burden to do so. 

 

"I'm sure you....and Matt will....work something out." Karen comforted, smile thin. 

 

Elektra's eyes hardened. "No. We won't. I won't allow it. It has been made clear to me that we do not love each other. We only destroy one another. I don't want that."

 

Karen closed her eyes, felt the immediate rush of relief flood in and then the guilt; because - that relief? - it was at Elektra's expense, whether or not Karen intended it to be. 

 

"So what will you do?" Karen asked, opening her eyes again. 

 

Elektra glanced around the living room forlornly. "I don't know."

 

"Yeah." Karen agreed bitterly. "I know how that feels." She offered a tired smile. 

 

Elektra took it, and she smiled back in return. 

 

And the clumsy hesitance Karen saw in that smile cemented her decision. 

 

She should make peace with this woman. For both of their sakes. She didn't have to. And she didn't really even _want_ to. But, by God, nothing was going to stop her from doing it. For both their sakes. They deserved to heal from a past that _shouldn't be able_ to hurt Karen any longer and that Elektra _couldn't even remember_. it was up to Karen to do it, and she would. 

 

_____________________________________

 

"Can I...talk to you?" Karen asked, stopping Matt as he tried to pass her as he came through the door. 

 

"I wasn't really expecting to entertain guests." Matt smiled sharply. 

 

"Since when am I a guest?" Karen asked, her first response even if it was now untrue. She smiled sadly; before, she had been close enough to be considered a friend, not a guest, but now she hadn't even been _welcome_ as a guest in a quite while. 

 

They both didn't say anything. 

 

"I'm concerned." Karen finally broke the silence, and Matt tilted his head at it but didn't say anything. "About Elektra." 

 

That drew a response from him. 

 

"Why?" Matt asked, surprised - at many things: her knowledge of Elektra's name, her concern, her broaching of said concern. 

 

"You didn't hear her today, Matt, when she was talking to me." Karen said and crossed her arms. "She's lost. She's scared. She's alone."

 

"She's not alone." Matt bit back sharply, as if that was the only fact important enough to him that needed to believe, and Karen swallowed. 

 

"Well, she feels like she is." Karen said, eyes lowered but refusing to censor herself, and she took a step to the side, freeing Matt's path. "I've got to get going."

 

"Karen, wait." Matt pleaded. 

 

Karen shook her head. "You figure this out. And if you want to do it alone, then fine. But just don't do it at the expense of the people who are just trying to help." Karen grabbed her coat from a hook on the wall. "And Matt? Don't make her suffer for your pride."

 

"It's not about pride." Matt insisted, as Karen slipped her arms through her sleeves, grabbed her purse and threw it over her shoulder. "I just don't - need anyone's help."

 

She buttoned up the coat. "You never do." She shook her head and left through the door before Matt could manage to form a response. 

 

Matt placed his hands on his waist and sighed. 

 

_____________________________________

 

"We have to help her." Danny said, slamming his fist down on his palm to accentuate the point. 

 

Jessica eyed him skeptically. "Do we really?" 

 

Danny frowned. "She needs help." 

 

Luke sighed. "She might have inside information that could help up take down the Hand." 

 

"We can manage without her." Jessica pointed out. "We _have_ managed without her so far."

 

"Yeah," Luke scoffed. "Because we've had Stick helping us. But if we help Elektra - "

 

"She might help us!" Danny finished excitedly, nodding sagely in agreement. 

 

Jessica squinted. "Just to be clear: we help Elektra, and then we're kicking Stick out of the band right?"

 

Danny made a protesting noise but Luke cut him off. "Absolutely." 

 

"Fucking finally." Jessica breathed. "Alright, I'm in." 

 

_____________________________________

 

"Watch and observe." Danny said, completely serious, before he sank to the floor in a smooth maneuver. He bent his legs and tucked his feet under his knees. 

 

"Wow. You can sit." Jessica muttered sarcastically to herself. Matt snorted anyways. She shot him an annoyed look. 

 

Danny closed his eyes and folded his arms across his thighs. "Meditation." He instructed serenely. "The key to connecting to your inner chi is to breathe deeply and steadily. This helps open up your energy pathways and allows you to focus on moving that energy from chakra to chakra. Align yourself. Steady your center. Breathe. Focus on distributing your chi to flow through all parts of your body, replenishing and restoring balance as it moves within you. This method of self reflection and self restoration is a soothing, peaceful method. Utilize it in such a way that you feel calm and focused after meditating - refreshed." 

 

Elektra cocked her head curiously as she watched Danny. 

 

"How long do you do this for?" Elektra asked suddenly. "How long until you find peace?"

 

"As long as it takes." Danny answered somberly, eyes still closed. "You do not go looking for peace because you will not find it; peace will find you." 

 

"Maybe you can translate that into something that sounds less like you read it off of a knock off fortune cookie." Jessica sneered, curling her lip up lazily. 

 

Danny opened his eyes. "It _means,_ " He said, climbing to his feet. "That meditation is about the journey. Your destination will arrive as you do. Time is not the vehicle to get there; you are." 

 

Jessica rolled her eyes and let out a slow, clearly aggravated breath. 

 

"So!" Luke clapped his hands softly, preemptively cutting off any further arguments on the matter. "I guess I'll take a shot at it now, huh?" 

 

"" Luke quoted easily, voice gentle and steady. 

 

Matt sucked in an audible breath. 

 

"" Luke finished, calm and easy. 

 

Elektra weighed the words around her tongue curiously. Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Is this supposed to be familiar?" 

 

Luke sighed. "No. It's supposed to be inspiring." 

 

"Ah." Elektra nodded, face impassive. 

 

"Yeah. My turn." Jessica took a step forward. "How to deal with shit one-oh-one." She pulled a bottle of whiskey from her bag and the three men all began speaking at once. 

 

"Whoa, whoa - "

 

"Maybe this isn't - "

 

"Did you already _drink_ half of that?" 

 

Jessica turned to Luke. "Did you think that I was going to deal with these three stooges - " She gestured widely at Matt, Danny and Elektra pointedly. " - without _any_ alcohol? Honestly?" 

 

"Three stooges?" Danny asked, baffled. 

 

"Okay," Matt pinched the bridge of his nose. "You guys all probably mean well, but - "

 

Elektra extended her arm and held out her hand. "I want some." 

 

Matt's scowl deepened. 

 

"Breakfast of champions." Jessica said sardonically and passed her the bottle. 

 

Elektra unscrewed the lid and took a tentative sip. She swallowed the alcohol with a clearly displeased expression. "Oh." She said and put the lid right back on. "Thank you." She offered the bottle back. 

 

"Maybe you don't like whiskey." Jessica mused and grabbed the bottle back. She had only put it halfway in her bag before she thought about it and changed her mind; and then took it right back out and opened it back up, taking one long swig this time before putting it away. 

 

"Maybe the problem is more that it's ten in the morning." Matt grumbled pointedly at Jessica. 

 

"Bite me." She curled her lip upward in a half hearted sneer. 

 

"No." Elektra held up one hand. "It did help. I remembered....Tequila." 

 

Jessica's eyebrows rose. "Huh. Sounds like we need to make a trip to a liquor stores." 

 

Luke made a considering noise. "Hey, Danny Boy, what do you think?"

 

Danny frowned. "I own a few distilleries?" He offered. "We could use my private jet and fly there."

 

"Priva- okay, no, actually; why am I surprised at this." Luke muttered. 

 

"We're not getting Elektra drunk." Matt reminded them all firmly. 

 

"Calm the shit down, Murdock." Jessica sighed. "No one said anything about getting drunk." The unspoken 'unfortunately' was written all over her face. 

 

"Y'all know that you can drink without getting drunk." Luke said, looking concerned but also like he wasn't sure whether that concern needed to be directed more towards Matt or Jessica. "Right?" 

 

"I know that!" Matt protested. 

 

Elektra shook her head. "No tequila." She decided. "It tastes like betrayal."

 

"O...kay then." Luke said slowly. "Glad we cleared that up." 

 

"This is going nowhere." Jessica sighed and then rolled her neck, cracking it. "Time for Plan B." She turned to face Elektra directly. "We need all the information about the Hand that you can give us. Now."

 

"This is your Plan B?" Matt said, scoffing. "And when did you decide this, Jessica?" He paused, tilting his head as he listened to unspoken cues that were silent to everyone else but easily heard by Matt. "Oh. You all decided?" 

 

"I know you're trying to help protect your ex-girlfriend and all," Jessica said. "But there are more important things are stake here." 

 

Luke nodded. "After the Hand is defeated, we can have more time to devote to help Elektra. Uninterrupted, peaceful time." 

 

_____________________________________

 

"No offense," Foggy pointed out with raised eyebrows. "But you are the literal last person that I would go to in search of coping techniques." 

 

Matt automatically made to protest but paused. "....Fair enough." He admitted, slightly chagrinned. 

 

"Especially," Foggy continued blithely. " _Healthy_ coping techniques."

 

Matt's lips pinched together. "Alright, that's also fair." 

 

"Not to mention - " 

 

"I _get it_ , Foggy." Matt interrupted quickly. "You've made your point."

 

Foggy eyed him skeptically. "Somehow I don't think so, but, sure, we can move on to discussing how your gang of merry men are all _also_ hilariously unsuited for it - and yet that's who you asked for help." 

 

"I didn't _ask_ them for - " Matt paused, as he placed his hands on his waist and tilted his head. "Foggy, none of us are Robin Hood."

 

"You're darn right none of you are Robin Hood!" Foggy agreed emphatically. "He actually knew what he was doing! And so did his friends!" 

 

"We're not - " Matt broke off what he was going to say and lowered his upraised voice. "We're not going to discuss this." Matt said sternly. "Not right now." 

 

Foggy pursed his lips and breathed in sharply. But he still said the retort he was trying to hold back. "When do we ever?" 

 

"Foggy - "

 

"No, no." Foggy interrupted. "It's fine. We'll just do what we always do. And not talk about anything. Ever. And then when your shit - _your_ shit, Matt! - interrupts my life, I still won't get an explanation but at least this time I might see it coming for the first goddamn time."

 

Matt swallowed painfully. "Foggy, if I could tell you, I would - "

 

Foggy scoffed. 

 

" - but it's dangerous."

 

"Dangerous for who, Matt? Because it's dangerous for me anyways. I'm already involved just by knowing you, Matt, and you know it." 

 

When Matt didn't answer, Foggy snorted disdainfully. 

 

"That's what I thought. But maybe it's not me that you're worried about - is it?" 

 

"That's not fair." Matt said quietly.

 

Foggy roughly exhaled his breath. "Well, you know what the lesson that I've learned from you? Nothing ever is, Matt. Nothing ever is." 

 

"Foggy..."

 

Foggy waited but Matt never continued, never spoke more words or finished the thought. 

 

Foggy shook his head, scoffed. "Call me when you actually want me in your life." He said, and headed towards the door. 

 

Matt could have said something, could have called after him. 

 

But he didn't. 

 

And the door softly closed as Foggy left once more from his life. 

 

Matt inhaled roughly to try and steady himself. 

 

"Wowww. You really fucked that up." Jessica Jones observed from the upper level. 

 

Matt exhaled angrily. 

 

"What are you doing here?" 

 

Jessica shrugged and jerked her thumb to the open roof access door behind her. "Karate Kid wants to see you." 

 

"I didn't realize you would be so quick to volunteer as a messenger." Matt snapped, unleashing his pent up frustration on the nearest target. 

 

Jessica grinned, her tone as sharp as her smile. "Talk to me like that again." She challenged and didn't even bother finished it with a threat, already completely assured that it came across. 

 

It did. 

 

______________________________________

 

"We've got a plan!" Danny announced, grinning, as soon as Matt set foot through the door. 

 

"So Elektra goes into the Hand home base, right? And they don't suspect her because - well, why should they?"

 

"They don't know she's remembered that used to be a different person before them." Luke offered. 

 

"Exactly." Danny nodded. "So we send her in, she takes down the main head honchos, and then she takes control. A coup. A total seizing of control. And then she orders all of the rest of the Hand members to gather, and that's when we come in." 

 

"At no point in time," Jessica added. "Does this plan require Stick, by the way. Just to point that out." 

 

"What do you think?" Danny asked, sending an excited look over to Matt, his non-expectant and eager tone easily revealed how obvious and rhetorical he believed the question to be. 

 

"No." Matt said, immediately and uncompromisingly firm. 

 

"What?" Danny asked, hands dropping the water bottle he had been messing with. 

 

"Matt, what the shit?" Jessica asked. "Did you not hear me when I said this plan involves _no Stick_ unlike all of the other ones thus far?" 

 

Matt's entire face tensed but he didn't say anything else, just jutted his jaw out stubbornly. 

 

"Elektra can easily infiltrate the Hand just by going there." Luke pointed out, his voice soothingly calm but his arms tensing as he folded them across his broad chest. "She's already a part of the innermost circle; no one would be suspicious of her." 

 

"No." Matt repeated simply. 

 

Jessica sighed, rolling her eyes. 

 

" _No_." Matt said firmly. 

 

"Calm the fuck _down_ , I didn't even _say_ anything." Jessica grumbled. 

 

"I'm serious, you guys." Matt warned. "It's too dangerous." 

 

"She's the Black Dragon. Or something. The Black Pearl. Okay, well, fuck all if I know what she's called, but what I _do_ know is that she can take care of herself, Matthew." Jessica pointed out.

 

" _She died._ " Matt snarled. "I'm not going to let that happen again."

 

"I dunno, man, she looks pretty not-dead to me." Danny mused. "Ow." He muttered and rubbed at the point of contact on his arm where Luke had swatted him. 

 

"She's not going back." Matt said firmly. "At the very _least_ not until she gets her life back in order." 

 

All of them, sans Matt, exchanged a look of agreement. 

 

"And how," Luke asked slowly, breaching the subject like a lazy sunrise coming upon the morning. "Do you suppose she should go about doing that?"

 

Matt paused. 

 

Then he sighed heavily, one palm wiping at his forehead tiredly, the other hand going to rest on his hip. 

 

"Okay," Matt brought his hand down off his face to hover placatingly in the air. "You may have a point." Jessica and Luke let out unison, soft snorts of disbelief. Matt ignored them. "Just give me - give me some time. To think of something." 

 

"We don't have time." Jessica reminded him flatly. 

 

"She's right, man. We really, really don't." Luke said. 

 

"Is there anyone we can ask?" Danny wondered. "Like - do you have a Colleen? Who's your Colle- hey, ouch." Danny shied away from Jessica, who had clapped down heavily on his shoulder. "Rude." 

 

"Rule number one of - " Jessica paused with a grimace. " - of _this._ Don't ask people who their loved ones are. It's a surefire way to either get hurt or get someone hurt." 

 

Danny nodded slowly, understanding dawning upon him. "Okay. Yeah, sure. I mean, I'm not actually _new_ to the whole vigilante slash hero thing, but - "

 

"You know," Luke interrupted, looking over Danny's head to stare at Jessica. "It's not a bad idea, actually."

 

"Um, _yeah_ it is." She bit back. 

 

"Hold on, just - hold on." Luke held up a finger. "Hear me out. We all go get a pizza. Meanwhile, Matt can go to his people, run this by them, and just see what they think. We all meet here again in an hour. Sound fair?" 

 

"What makes you think that I trust you not to follow me?" Matt scoffed. 

 

Luke's turned to look at him. 

 

"Because I'm not going to."

 

Matt's face underwent a quick, scrunched series of emotions as he thought that over. "Besides," He said, face settling on aloof with annoyance clearly simmering below the surface, "I don't have _people_."

 

"Okay, Batman." Danny scoffed. Then he turned to Luke. "You know? Because he works alone?" 

 

" _I swear to God,_ " Jessica muttered. "You wanted a plan? Okay, here's a plan. Matt has five minutes to come up with a plan or else Luke and I are leaving. And Danny stays.... on 'guard duty.'"

 

Matt's eyes narrowed behind their darkened lenses. 

 

Jessica smiled smugly. 

 

"What? Why me?" Danny asked. "Hey, hey, you guys, what's - "

 

Matt's lips pursed into a thin line. 

 

"But I suppose that it's because I have the ancient power of the iron fist, right?" 

 

"Ha," Jessica muttered as Matt took out his cell phone from his pocket, clearly caving under the threat of being left alone with Danny, who inevitably always would bring the conversation back to the powers of the ancient Iron Fist. 

 

"Call Karen," Matt said into his phone and waited for it to ring. "Hey," He said, clearly when the call was answered. "You remember that thing that you were saying the last time you were here? Well...I think you may be right. I need your help. Can you come by my apartment?" He paused, obviously listening. "No. Just yourself. Yeah, now would be great. Actually, uh..." He broke out, voice turning awkward and losing its previous unwavering neutral quality. "Bring Foggy with you?" His mouth turned down in a slight grimace at whatever Karen said in reply. "No - yeah, I guess. Yeah, we are. Look, I've got to go. I'll see you soon."

 

He hung the phone up and shoved it back into his pocket. 

 

"Happy now?" Matt asked, unenthused.

 

"Holy shit, was that your people?" Danny asked excitedly. "You _do_ have people, I _knew_ it! Heeeey." He frowned as both Jessica and Luke swatted a shoulder at the same time. "I know what you said, but - it's not exactly a secret now anymore, so it doesn't count! Right?"

 

Luke sighed. 

 

"Hey," Jessica teased. " _You_ found the kid." 

 

"You guys, I'm not a kid!" Danny protested. "I'm the ancient and mighty Iron Fist!" 

 

"Uh huh." Jessica nodded and shot a pointed look over to Luke, the only other sensible adult in the room. _And God are they fucked,_ Jessica realized in glum amusement, If the two sensible adults are Luke and herself. 

 

___________________________________

 

"Jessica Jones, super strength. Luke Cage, impenetrable skin plus super strength."

 

"Show off." Jessica teased in gentle amusement, and Luke smiled in reply. 

 

"Also super _hot,_ " Foggy murmured under his breath to Karen, who immediately smiled in mirth. 

 

Matt frowned and waited for them both to be done. 

 

He gestured to Danny. "Danny Rand. Martial arts fighter. He gets a magical - "

 

"Mystical!" Danny corrected. 

 

" - _mystical_ glowing iron fist that can do enough damage to affect Luke."

 

"Holy shit, though," Foggy blurted loudly. "He's totally like Clay from _Xiaolin Showdown._ White, blonde, master at an ambiguous and ancient kung fu. Oh, _man,_ he used a kung fu fist too, didn't he? Oh, shoot, what was it called?" 

 

Karen coughed quietly, and she brought one hand up to cover the way her mouth curved upwards in amusement. 

 

"Uh....what?" Danny shuffled awkwardly. 

 

"What... are you talking about?" 

 

"Xaolin Showdown?" Foggy looked around the room. "Oh _come on_ , I can't have been the only one to have thought this! He's totally Clay!" 

 

They all stared back at him, expressions blank. 

 

"And _these_ are your people?" Jessica asked, nonplussed. 

 

"Foggy and Karen have experience with this sort of thing." Matt assured, for the umpteenth time. 

 

"Yeah, you know, you kept saying that since before they got here, and yet you still haven't told us what that means." Luke pointed out. "No offense," He offered towards the two of them, one palm spread in an eased motion. 

 

Karen lazily waved back in dismissal. "It's fine."

 

"Seriously." Foggy agreed. "We've heard way, way worse. That's not even, like, a blip on the radar. It's like so small in comparison. Like if you compared Matt's arms to your arms."

 

"What?" Luke asked, his eyebrows raising. 

 

"Wait, what?" Matt asked at the same time. 

 

Foggy continued hurriedly. "You know. Because your arms are huge. Like, holy wow, huge. You could probably bench press _me_ \- oh my God, could you? I was just saying that but you probably really could, oh my _God._ "

 

Karen coughed, going for subtle, as she tried to remind Foggy to tone it down a notch. 

 

"Matt, your people are great." Luke said, highly amused. 

 

"So great." Jessica offered lazily, also visibly amused by how flustered Foggy was getting over Luke. "I can bench press the both of you together, just so you know."

 

Karen elbowed Foggy directly when he continued staring at Luke's biceps for another long moment, ignoring the way Jessica eyed them both in slow speculation. 

 

Foggy blinked and looked at Karen and then looked back to the group. " _So!_ " He cleared his throat and then became all business. "Lesson one. What do you do when insert-your-vigilante-here throws your life into complete chaos. Subsection one: how to determine if you, the civilian friend, are in immediate danger, despite not knowing key facts - if any - that pertain to the vigilante situation."

 

"Holy," Jessica enunciated slowly, "Fuck." 

 

"Yeah, uh, how - how long is this gonna take?" Danny asked, shuffling his feet. "I've got things to do and - "

 

"Shut up." Jessica said calmly, even though she too looked to be thinking extremely similar thoughts to him, eyes creasing in displeasure. 

 

"How is this going to help with, uh," Luke glanced at Matt before continuing, "Elektra?" 

 

Karen smiled. "Elektra is the vigilante in the scenario."

 

" _And,_ " Foggy added, as if on a well rehearsed cue, "She's also the civilian friend." 

 

Matt frowned. "What?" 

 

"Elektra is having her life be interrupted by all this." Karen explained, and Matt's frown only deepened. 

 

"No, this _is_ her life. You don't know her. Not like I know her."

 

Karen's patient smile froze stiffly on her face, her shoulders locking up.

 

"Matt," Foggy cut in, voice suddenly sharp. "The Elektra that you and I once knew? She's gone. Could be gone forever. But right now - _right now,_ Matt, - that's _all_ she remembers. So, uh, yeah, I'd say her life is definitely being interrupted. She's just trying to figure out who she is, maybe get her memory back."

 

"And instead," Karen said, recovered, "She's being sought after and chased down by an ancient ninja organization that worships her. The same organization that killed her and is responsible for her lack of memories in the first place." 

 

"It's a bit disruptive to the healing process, you gotta admit." Foggy pointed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __________________
> 
>  
> 
> So when I was mid-series of The Defenders, I thought that Elektra was going to redeem herself and go on this self realizing journey and become a new person. But she didn't, and the way that the series ended wasn't my cup of tea at all. 
> 
>  
> 
> So this is slightly based off of that idea of what I thought was going to happen - that Elektra gets a somewhat fresh start. (But she has to cope with having died, having little access to all of her previous life's memories, and having an evil organization try to use her as their weapon.) 
> 
>  
> 
> I didn't really explore this idea as much as I was going to; it was going to be Elektra-centric but currently it isn't nearly as focused on her as much as my original intention.
> 
>  
> 
> ___________________
> 
>  
> 
> Title is part of the song "With A Little Help From My Friends"


	10. Not Much Has Changed, But They Live Underwater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-relationship Spideytorch; Rated G
> 
>  
> 
> It's a bit excessive to have a toilet with a fish tank built into it, but that's Johnny Storm for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter is a trans nb and they/them; Johnny is a trans boy and he/him As always, Peter is autistic 
> 
>  
> 
> This is just them hanging out because I never got around to writing the plot I had planned for it. Sorry about any disjointedness and lack of editing
> 
>  
> 
> Spoilers:
> 
> None
> 
> Warnings:
> 
> There's fish tanks in furniture, but it was done by a professional. The fish aren't in overcrowded or unhealthy conditions, and they do get fed despite being in furniture.

"Oh my God." Peter whispered, and smushed their face against the glass, ignoring their slightly painful squishing of the nose. "Those are real fish." 

 

"What do you mean 'those are real fish'? Of course they're real fish." Johnny said incredulously, staring at Peter strangely. 

 

"I thought they were fake!" Peter justified defensively at Johnny's tone. "Like, you know. Those fish in hand soap containers." 

 

"So you actually thought," Johnny slowly said, as if each word was more bewildering than the last, "That I named a fake fish after you. That I had fake fish in my toilet. And I named a fake fish after you. That's what you thought."

 

Peter finally peeled their face off of the glass. "Well. Yeah." They said. They rubbed idly at their reddened, smushed nose. 

 

Johnny closed his eyes and took a slow breath. 

 

He opened his eyes. 

 

"Peter," He said calmly. "How weird, exactly, do you think I am?" 

 

Peter scrunched their nose, and then winced at its lingering tenderness. "Uh. Is this a trick question?"

 

Johnny looked desperately up at the gold foiled wallpapered ceiling. He took a steadying breath. 

 

"Okay." He said and slapped both of his hands together excitedly. "So which fish do you wanna meet first?"

 

"Peter, obviously." They replied with a cheeky grin. 

 

Johnny, however, frowned. "I just showed you Peter." 

 

Peter's eyebrows furrowed. "Um. Where? Which one's Peter?"

 

"The cute one, duh." Johnny immediately responded. 

 

"They all look the same." Peter pointed out. 

 

Johnny gasped. 

 

"Never talk to me or my one hundred and twenty sons again." Johnny said, draping his arms protectively over the water tank. 

 

Peter stared for a half a moment, before simply turning around, and walking out of out the bathroom. 

 

"Wait, I was joking, Pete, come back!" Johnny wailed, hurriedly shooting upright. "I don't have that many! There's only four in this tank!"

 

Peter snickered. 

 

But they stayed. 

 

____________________________________

 

Johnny's two person sofa was made of white leather and could, technically, also be called a love seat. 

 

It could, technically, also be called a fish tank.

 

"The sofa??" Peter gaped, jaw dropped; as they stared in disbelief at where side panels should be but instead was glass. The base was built of glass hollowed out and filled with water - and fish - to support the weight of the couch. 

 

"The sofa." Peter repeated, still in disbelief. 

 

"Pretty sweet, isn't it?" Johnny grinned, all white teeth and long limbs and he lounged back across said sofa in a lazy stretch. He propped his legs up on a coffee table idly, crossing his feet at the ankles. 

 

Peter's mouth opened and shut soundlessly twice before they managed to actually say anything. "Really?" They asked. "The sofa?" 

 

Johnny cocked his head. "What, you don't like it?" 

 

"That's not the point!" Peter said, staring, and Johnny merely smiled. 

 

"C'mon." Johnny patted the empty seat next to him encouragingly. "Sit down and put your feet up with me." 

 

Peter, still standing, looked at Johnny's mentioned feet that were propped up on the coffee table. 

 

Peter blinked. 

 

They looked back at Johnny, who looked close to laughter. 

 

Peter looked back at the coffee table. The coffee table with a built in aquarium as a base. 

 

Peter, turned, placed hands on their hips, and looked back at Johnny. Johnny wiggled his eyebrows, grinning. 

 

"Don't you think," Peter said, feeling a bit lightheaded, "That you've gone a tad overboard?"

 

Johnny visibly perked up. "Was that an ocean pun?"

 

"Johnny." Peter protested, but they ended up smiling anyways. Johnny meaningfully glanced at the still empty seat beside him. "Oh, alright." Peter relented. 

 

And they sat on the aquarium sofa next to Johnny and gingerly propped their feet up on the aquarium coffee table, next to Johnny's feet. 

 

Peter nudged Johnny's socked clad feet with one foot. Johnny actually had a matching pair of socks on, the absolute madman. 

 

"C'mon." Peter prompted impatiently. "What's with all the fish?" 

 

Johnny shrugged. "I like fish."

 

Peter snorted. "Okay but. Why do you need like at least ten fish in like every piece of furniture that you own?" 

 

Johnny protested half heartedly, bumping his knee against Peter's in the air playfully. 

 

Peter blinked slowly. 

 

"It's not every piece." Johnny said, an actually embarrassed flush finally starting to appear around the back of his neck. "Just - lots of them." 

 

As if that explained things. 

 

"Uh huh." Peter nodded, as if they understood. Which they didn't. 

 

Johnny smiled charmingly, turning his entire torso to face more towards Peter. 

 

"Don't you like them?" Johnny asked. 

 

"The fish?" Peter questioned. 

 

Johnny's thigh was nudging against Peter's, slightly too warm in the early spring heat but somewhat cozy in the lingering winter chill. 

 

Which, really, Peter thought, For a rich person with customized furniture, you would think they'd have better air conditioning regulators. 

 

"Mmm hmm." Johnny said, and Peter was reminded that the two of them were having a conversation. 

 

"Oh." Peter said and stared at where Johnny's thigh pressed against Peter's leggings. "Uh..." 

 

Johnny suddenly shifted, leaning his weight backwards and towards the right, and putting space between them. 

 

"I like fish." Johnny said, as if Peter had spoken. "I find them calming."

 

Peter nodded. They could understand that. 

 

"And - that's it?" Peter asked slowly. 

 

Johnny nodded, looking more serene than Peter could remember ever having. seen him. "That's it." 

 

Peter also nodded. "Oh. Well. Okay then." They said, and relaxed into the white leather seat. It squished unpleasantly but soon settled. 

 

Johnny grinned. "Yeah," He said warmly, stretching his arms out and landing one hand to rest behind his head and one hand to rest on the curve of the further cushion. His fingers briefly skimmed softly against Peter's shoulder before he adjusted them upwards again. 

 

Peter eyed him contemplatively. 

 

"So," Peter said after a moment. "Are you going to introduce me to _these_ fish or what?"

 

Johnny beamed. 

 

__________________________________

 

Ben threw back his head and laughed, his hands resting against his stomach. "Oh I bet he showed you his fish!" He chortled merrily. 

 

Peter stared, blinking. 

 

Johnny was flushed, seemingly angrily, as he hissed, "Ben!" 

 

"So," Ben continued, as if Johnny wasn't vigorously making a 'cut it out' gesture, "Did he tell ya that he bought his fish every time he got a crush on someone?" 

 

Johnny groaned. "I hate you." He informed his teammate, and began trying to pull Peter away. "That's not true."

 

Peter remained frozen. "But..." They said, wrinkling their forehead in confusion. "There's like. More than one hundred fish in there." 

 

"Well," Ben leaned forward gleefully, as if about to divulge a terribly juicy secret. 

 

Johnny tugged at Peter's arm. 

 

"There's plenty of fish in the sea." Ben grinned. "And Johnny's a real ocean."

 

"That doesn't even make sense. And you're stupid. Go away." Johnny muttered, fingers digging into Peter. 

 

Peter finally noticed the two hands wrapped around their arm. "Oh." They said in mildly apathetic surprise. "Huh." 

 

"And since you're a good kid, I like you so much, I'll tell you another secret." Ben announced.

 

"Alright, that's it." Johnny snapped. "C'mon, Pete." 

 

This time, because Peter was now aware of the presence, Peter noticed the fingers pulling on their arm. They let Johnny lead them away. 

 

Ben laughed. 

 

"You're such an asshole." Johnny informed him over Peter's shoulder. "Maybe you should go take a long walk off a short pier, Ben. See how fast you sink. Call it science or something." 

 

"Maybe _you_ should keep your lousy mitts away from my phone, and I won't tell your friend you kiss your pillow imagining it was their face!" Ben shot one last parting shot. 

 

"That's a lie!" Johnny bellowed. His ears smoked. Peter's arm felt hot where Johnny's fingers were clutching. Red-faced, Johnny turned to Peter. "Pete, he's such a _liar,_ I swear to pissing - aurgh - " Johnny floundered before picking up metaphorical and literal steam once more. "I swear to _pissing piss,_ okay? Seriously he's just - GAH - " 

 

Peter blinked, taken off guard by the tirade's sudden end. Johnny tugged at his own hair in frustration. 

 

Peter contemplated the situation for a moment but then just decided to wing it. 

 

"Hey, flamebrain." Peter lightly punched Johnny's shoulder. "Cool it down. You're smoking more than a flambé."

 

Johnny's hands dropped. So did his jaw. "A - a what."

 

"A flambé." Peter nodded factually. They tilted their head in slight consideration. "Although those don't actually, like, _smoke,_ ya know? They just go - " Peter's hands gestured enthusiastically, " - whoosh de whoosh!" They nodded again. "Because like. Fire." 

 

Johnny stared at them. And then slowly and solemnly said, "Pete. I'll be frank with you. I... have no idea what you're talking about." 

 

"How can you be Frank if you're Johnny?" Peter teased. 

 

Johnny groaned. "No, that's not even funny. That was terrible."

 

"It was slightly funny! It was like - five percent funny, at least!" 

 

Johnny shook his head, in faux dismay; his mood lifted. "I give it two point five, at best." 

 

"Yeesh." Peter shrugged. "Tough crowd." 

 

Johnny rolled his eyes. "Don't make me start deducting points." 

 

"What points?" Peter asked. "I barely have any!" 

 

"Well," Johnny paused. "Minus three points for being a total dork. Now you're in the negative. So, ha."

 

Peter gaped. "I can't believe you!" Peter shook their head as if in disappointment. "To think you'd betray your one and only friend this way."

 

"One and only?" Johnny's jaw dropped. "Oh, that is _it!_ Minus three hundred points!"

 

"What?!" Peter demanded. "You've gone too far, you fiend. You fish fiend."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this for my friend forever ago and never finished. (It was going to be an identity reveal fic when, midst battle, Spiderman references The Human Torch's fish and Johnny is like 'PETER????'")


End file.
